


Dreams of the Dead

by beeawolf



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeawolf/pseuds/beeawolf
Summary: Small, missing moment in Brotherhood. Desmond dreams; Shaun is annoyed.





	Dreams of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> The e-mails make it sound like the modern day gang have their own rooms (or at least, more than one room) in the Villa. The game shows sleeping bags on the floor. Who among us knows the truth? I went with rooms for story purposes.

It's not that the screaming wakes Shaun; he's already awake by the time it starts. But tonight he can't listen to it any longer, can't lie here in the dark listening to Lucy and Rebecca toss and turn and pretend that they don't hear anything. So he gets up. He shoves his glasses on his face irritably and stalks down toward Desmond's room, where the door is open – always open. He has a thing about it being open.

            Shaun hesitates at the threshold, peering into the almost-darkness, his eyes finding the shape of Desmond just as it flails sideways and lets out a rough, desperate cry – _aiutami_ again, always _aiutami_ lately. And Shaun grits his teeth, strides over to Desmond's bedside, and grabs him by the shoulders before he has time to question the relative wisdom of abruptly waking up a confused and frightened killing machine.

            But Desmond doesn't fight him. He just goes still – utterly, unnervingly still – and it's a moment before his eyes open. His shoulders tense under Shaun's hands. His eyes focus.

            And Shaun lets go. Shaun steps back. Because this is what Shaun does, when confronted with the idea of being seen.

            But Desmond isn't really looking at him anyway. He blinks a few times, and sits up, a shaky hand reaching for the water bottle beside his bed and tipping it to his lips. A few drops spill onto his blanket.

            "You were yelling," Shaun says, accusatory. _Like a lunatic_ , he doesn't add, because okay, whatever Rebecca says, Shaun does have _some_ sense of tact. He's seen the way Desmond's shoulders twitch at the mention of Sixteen.

            "Oh," says Desmond. His voice is hoarse. He rubs at his eyes, and presses his palm to his forehead. "Sorry. I was just..." His hand drops to his side, and he pauses for far too long, staring at nothing. "I was...There was this moment. When I...when Ezio...when he saw Uncle Mario die."

            Shaun says nothing, but a slight chill creeps up the back of his neck.

            "When he..." Desmond repeats, then stops, closes his eyes again, sighs. "It was like his dad, like his brothers. He was too far away to help, it was too...fast...and I think he...I think he relived it a lot."

            "So now you are too?" Shaun says, incredulous. "That's not how the Animus works." Of course, that's not quite...honest, is it? No one knows _precisely_ how the Animus works, not really. Not even Rebecca.

            Desmond looks at him a little funny then, and shrugs. "Sorry," he says again.

            "Whatever," Shaun says, waving a hand. "Just, in the future...try dreaming about puppies. Or kittens. Rainbows, possibly."

            "Great advice," Desmond says dryly.

            "Oh, well, you know me," Shaun replies, and turns to leave.

            "Wait," Desmond says, his voice cracking enough that he turns it into a poor imitation of a cough. "Wait, uh, could you..."

            Stay. He doesn't say it. Can't. Shaun can't blame him – a grown man having nightmares that don't even belong to him, afraid to be alone in the dark.

            "I mean...nah, nevermind," Desmond says, with a little self-conscious laugh, and Shaun...

            Shaun isn't _completely_ heartless, is the thing. Especially when there's no one around to see.

            "You know, actually that reminds me. I found something interesting about the Medici the other day," he says.

            Desmond looks up at him again, all surprise and relief – and yes, he knows exactly what Shaun is doing, and yes, he's going to play along. "Yeah?" he says, sitting up so his legs hang over the edge of the bed.

            "Yeah," Shaun says, and comes over to sit beside him. Keeping a good arm's length of distance between them, of course. He isn't that soft. "Do you remember what Lorenzo said about Ezio's father?"

            "Ezio's dad saved his life, yeah, I remember."

            "Right. So it turns out that's true, but not in the way you might expect..."

            And they go on like that. Shaun telling stories in the half-dark until Desmond finally stops responding, stops asking questions, stops offering little bits of knowledge about the Auditore family that by all logic he should not _have_.

            Until he falls asleep. Quietly.

            Shaun takes care to leave the door open when he leaves.


End file.
